


daydreaming

by annejumps



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Bottom!Eames, Daydreaming, M/M, Nipples, Restraints, Rimming, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 11:28:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annejumps/pseuds/annejumps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some people might not believe it, but Arthur daydreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	daydreaming

**Author's Note:**

> Quick thing I wrote at work today.

Some people might not believe it, but Arthur daydreams.

Using the PASIV for it would seem so much more... deliberate. Too real, despite it not being real at all. Paradox. So he hasn’t used it for this.

He sits at his desk, or at rickety tables in cramped crowded coffee shops, or on his bed, or in his bath, and daydreams, but it's the most vivid when he's at his desk and Eames is there. Eames, the unknowing, preening star of his daydreams since this job started.

At work, he looks at Eames: solid, composed, often quiet, whipping out a razor-sharp wit as needed, fiddling with his cuffs or his poker chip and observing, while trying not to be observed. But Arthur sees him, and he daydreams.

He hasn’t so much as kissed Eames, but he thinks about him naked, spread out on white sheets. Skin flushed and sunkissed, decorated with tattoos, sprinkled with the perfect amount of hair. Firm slabs of muscle. Arthur’s mouth always waters at the thought.

In his usual, favorite daydreams, Eames is looking up at him, his neck pink, lips glistening and parted from kissing, pupils wide. Arthur likes to think of tying him to the bed, his hands above him and his body in an attitude of supine surrender. He's at Arthur's mercy.

Arthur once caught a glimpse of Eames in his tank top undershirt, changing dress shirts, and saw the way his nipples prodded at the soft cotton. Now, daydreaming, he can almost feel them on his tongue. He rubs the tip of his tongue against his front teeth, imagining he's caught Eames' nipple there, and that he's tugging it, laving it, suckling at it as Eames pants and stifles his betraying sounds, pulling against his bonds and squirming.

He imagines Eames finally resorting to gasping out a plea before he pops off and attends to the other nipple. 

He imagines blowing cool air onto them while ghosting his palm down Eames' stomach, feeling his chest expand with his breaths, and the way his skin is damp with anticipatory sweat. 

He imagines wrapping his hand loosely around Eames' eager, upright, reddened cock, stroking him lightly and teasingly, then getting down between his legs and pushing his thighs up and akimbo, holding him open and licking his balls, the creases of his thighs, his perineum, his hole. Relentlessly eating him out and driving him toward that magic moment when finally, finally, his cock twitching in Arthur's grip, Eames loses his cool, drops his veneer and his guardedness and comes with Arthur's tongue in his ass and a hand gripping his thigh, hoarse cries filling the sumptuous bedroom Arthur has imagined for them.

Arthur thinks of using his own spit and Eames' come as lube then, and fucking him roughly, absorbing Eames' approving pants in his kisses, Eames' legs tight around him, begging with his entire body for more. 

He imagines coming deep inside Eames.

When he daydreams, Arthur can feel his heartbeat tick up, can tell his face must be pink and his eyes a bit glazed, but he doesn't think anyone will really notice. He's careful to not look at Eames too often, and writes in his notebook or looks through papers as needed. He drinks some water, loosens his collar, and discreetly adjusts himself. The day carries on. When he gets back to wherever he’s staying at the time, before he goes to sleep he jerks off, and reminds himself that getting involved with Eames in any capacity is, ultimately, a bad idea. Still his mind wanders from time to time, and he daydreams.

One particular morning as his favorite daydream fades once more, as he shifts his cock in his pants with the quick press of a palm, he cuts a glance to Eames. He's sitting in his usual chair, thinking, chewing the end of a pen, and regarding Arthur consideringly, one brow arched. Slowly, casually, Eames spreads his thighs a bit, gaze locked with Arthur's. 

Arthur swallows, looking down at his notebook, feeling his face turn red. He wills his erection to subside, waits for his face to stop feeling hot. Gradually, he cools, feeling composed once more.

Before Eames leaves for a late lunch, he drops a scrap of paper on Arthur's desk, and strides out, acting nonchalant. The note has Eames' hotel and room number on it. Both things Arthur knew, and that Eames knew he knew, but now, Arthur has an invitation.

From then on, when Arthur daydreams, he draws from experience. Involvement with Eames might turn out badly, but Arthur thinks it’s worth the risk.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Liz for reading this over.


End file.
